The Scrapbook
by LadyNightRunner
Summary: ON HOLD! Restart TBA!Jake finds the scrapbooks his grandfather left him when he died. Contained within is a good portion of the lives of Team Urameshi. Jake's grandfather was Kurama.
1. The Scrapbooks are found

"Hey! Look what I found!"

"Ooooh! Lemme see! Lemme see!"

"Calm down, all of you. Let me see that." The teenager waded into the pile-up of small children and extracted the heavy book they were squabbling over. He smiled slightly as he read the title, and the dates on it. "Well, you guys have quite a find. I was sure I'd lost this. That, or my mom threw it out."

"What is it?"

"Memories."

"Whose?"

"Team Urameshi's."

"Really?" A multitude of small voices cried.

"Mmhm. Where did you find it?"

"Here." One boy said, pointing at the small hole in the floor that shouldn't have been there.

"I'd completely forgotten about that hiding place." The youth knelt down on the floor and reached into the space between the floorboards. In a few minutes, he'd collected a pile of books, all identical to the one he held. They were huge books, all at least six inches thick, the size of a large encyclopedia, bound in leather and stamped in gold. "Lets see…one, two, three… they're all here."

"How many?"

"Twenty-five. Twenty-five volumes."

"Wow!"

"Yes, wow. And there are five in each volume here. This is currently the group's set. Each member made one, and they're _each_ this long."

"So what are they?"

"Scrapbooks."

"Where did you get them?"

"Well, seeing as Kurama is my grandpa, and he was their keeper, they were part of my inheritance when he died." The children became quiet.

"How did he die?"

"He was shot."

"By a gun?"

"No. He took an arrow, right through the heart. He did it to protect Hiei. They were the closest friends you can imagine."

"Can we see?"

"Well, what do you want to see?"

"What do they have inside?"

"A lot of things. Stories, mostly. Pieces of the past."

"Stories about what?"

"Battles. Wins, losses, ties. Victory, and defeat. Failures, discoveries. People they met, friends they made. Jams they got into, and how they got out. A good portion of their lives is in those books."

"What else?"

"Things they picked up. Reminders of things that happened. Pictures."

"Pictures of what?"

"Of them. Of things they did, places they went, people they met. Pictures of the past. Things they saved, or destroyed, or helped build. Battles they fought, injuries they got. Things like that.

"Can you pick one?" The little ones were dazed by the treasure they had found. That many stories could keep them all happy forever!

"Weeeelllll…I don't know. What do you want to hear about?"

"How did your grandpa and Hiei meet?"

"I'm sure you _all_ know that one."

"Jake! What _are_ you up to?" Everyone jumped as the door slammed open. Jake groaned and stood up, casually approaching the female in the doorway. Her tail twitched in annoyance. She stood eye-level with Jake's chest, making her about 5 feet 2. Her chestnut hair was braided and coiled in a complex series of loops at the back of her head, and her startlingly blue eyes glimmered in anticipation of a bit of fun. She was a slender creature, slender but strong, like a porcelain doll molded around a core of steel. Placing her beside Jake was like parking a kayak beside a super tanker.

"They found the scrapbooks." Her eyes went wide and her ears flattened half down to her scalp in shock.

"_No way_!

"Yes way."

"Well, bring them downstairs! We can all see." Jake nodded.

"Okay. Everyone follow Erin downstairs. Erin, can you carry a couple of these?" Erin nodded and accepted five volumes. She left, trailing a line of kids, all between the ages of five and ten. Jake followed, the rest of the books in his arms. He made quite a strange picture. 6 feet 6, with fiery red hair that hung to just short of halfway down his back (pulled into a ponytail), black jeans that fit like a second skin, green t-shirt that said 'I'm with the band', sparkling green eyes, and a build that screamed 'football player!', carrying a stack of books. What a sight! He managed to navigate the stairs without mishap and got into the living room. Once there, at least a dozen small hands reached out to take the books and put them on the coffee table.

"We saved a place for you." Erin said, indicating a spot in the middle of the oversized couch. Jake sat, and was immediately covered by kids, all vying for the honored seat in his lap.

"Hey! Knock it off! You all know the rules. Youngest gets my lap." Reaching into the crowd, Jake extracted a tiny boy of five, who was calmly sucking his thumb, and plunked him down in his lap.

"What were you going to tell them about?" Erin asked.

"Well…they wanted how Gramps and Hiei met up, but I know they know it already."

"Not _that_ one!" someone yelled. "What happened _after_ that? Did they just live by themselves until Yusuke happened?"

"Oh. _That_ story. Hand me the fourth volume someone." Jake opened the book, yelped, and closed it again.

"What is it?" Erin asked.

"Ouch. I forgot that these can _only_ be opened by someone with at least half demon blood. I'm in human form, so it zapped me." There was a quiet 'pop' noise, and Jake's ears and tail appeared. He tried the book again, and it opened. "I'm gonna have to move ya small fry." He said to the child in his lap. The boy moved, transferring himself to Erin's lap. Jake put the book in his lap, with the covers resting easily on his knees. He flipped through the pages until, finally, he came to a bright picture, one that featured Hiei and Kurama when they were teenagers. They were on a lawn, with a gorgeous flower garden behind them. Kurama had Hiei in a headlock, and was tickling him mercilessly. Hiei was laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks.

"Wow. All the pictures I've ever seen of these two are serious. I didn't even know if they were able to act like this!" Erin commented.

"Yeah, they could. Gramps did, right up to the day before he died. Apparently, as a way of calming himself down, he de-bugged all of his rose bushes and put the bugs in the other three's beds. Kuwabara nearly had a heart attack, and Hiei had to be restrained so he wouldn't try to strangle Kurama."

"Well, aren't you going to read it?" Someone asked.

"No."

"NO? Why _not_?" they chorused.

"It's going to read itself. Watch, and listen." Jake snapped his fingers, and his index finger lit up with a faint green light. He touched his finger to a small black dot on the top outside corner of the page. Just like that, they all saw and heard the tale.


	2. Home with the Flu

If you looked into the living room that afternoon, you would have seen two teenagers, somewhere between 17-19 years old, with the ears and tail of either a fox or a cat, surrounded by at least a dozen small demons, humans, and half-breeds no older than about 10, all frozen in place. To the casual eye, they might have been statues by a master sculptor, except for the fact that they were breathing. Not a single child moved. No ears twitched to catch small sounds, no tails flicked in impatience or wagged in excitement. Jake and Erin were still; Erin with a lapful of children, Jake with the book in his lap. His hands were on either side of the book, the index finger of his right hand still resting close to the dot that had set the entrancing tale in motion. If you moved close and stared into the eyes of any of them, you could just see flickers and snatches of color, light, and even a piece of a picture for a fleeting moment. If you leaned down and put your ear to that of any of them, you might hear a faint murmur of voices.

/Story One- The Second Meeting (Home Alone)/ Somewhere, an alarm clock went off. A slender hand snaked out from underneath the blankets on the nearby bed and gave the clock a precise whack. It stopped ringing, and the hand retreated. Half an hour later, the clock went off again, and the hand came out again. This time, however, the hand fumbled around at the back of the clock until the alarm was switched off for good.

"Shuichi! I know you're up! I heard your alarm go off!" A warm, slightly frustrated female voice called from some other part of the house. The lump on the bed groaned and ignored it. Several minutes later, footsteps sounded outside the door. "Shuichi! School _is_ in session today. You aren't skipping, even if some of your classmates do. Get up. Are you even listening to me?" No response. Sighing in frustration, the speaker opened the door and entered. She was a pretty woman, probably in her early to mid-thirties. She was more than a little surprised to find her son still in bed, with the blankets pulled over his head, and ignoring everything she said. Stepping forward, she pulled the covers back far enough to reveal Shuichi's head. Not his face, because it was buried under his pillow, but a head of shaggy red hair. "I really wish you'd get this cut dear." She sighed

"No." came the muffled reply from the pillow. Shiori picked up the pillow to find her son blinking groggily at the light and looking pitiful. Of course, he always looked like that when he woke up. His hair, which hung far enough down his back to be pulled into a ponytail (not that he ever did), was sticking out at all angles, and hanging in his face.

"What are you doing still in bed? I heard your alarm go off twice."

"Don' feel good." Shuichi mumbled, tugging halfheartedly at his pillow. Shiori released it, and he tucked it under his head.

" Don't feel good how?" she asked.

" Jus' don' feel good." He responded, yanking his blankets up and pulling them tightly around his shoulders. Shiori bent over him and placed a hand against his forehead, then against her own, checking his temperature against hers.

"You've got a fever little one." She said softly, brushing some of his hair out of his emerald green eyes.

"Great." The redhead muttered sarcastically, nuzzling slightly into his mother's gentle touch. After all, he couldn't be expected to be happy. He felt _terrible_.

"And of course, the one day you get sick has to be the one where I work late. Do you think you'll be alright by yourself?"

"Should be."

"Okay honey. You take care of yourself. I'll call the school to tell them you're sick, and I'll try to check in around lunch."

"Please don't say that." Shuichi whimpered, pulling away.

"Say what?"

"Lunch. I don't even want to _think_ about food."

"Well, you should try to eat _something _today dear. I hope you feel better." Shiori kissed Shuichi's cheek affectionately and left, closing the door partially behind her. Shuichi groaned and rolled over onto his back, hoping that lying on his back would make his stomach feel better. It worked for a little while, until mid-morning, when his stomach gave a nauseating lurch that sent him catapulting out of bed and into the bathroom down the hall. He spent the next hour and a half like that, until his stomach calmed down, much to his relief. He decided on a change of scenery, and managed to get to the couch with his blanket without falling down the stairs True, he'd fallen twice on the way to the stairs, but not _down_ the stairs.

"What _possessed_ me to inhabit a human body? I must have gotten hit on the head before I died." he muttered to himself, arranging his blanket around himself in a warm nest.

'_Remember dummy'_ a small voice in the back of his head growled. _'You used to end up at the other end of this little spectrum. You'd be fine for awhile, months, or even upward of a year, then you'd get so sick that you would be in bed for _at least_ a week! You would be utterly miserable, and you _hated_ it!' _

"True. But I still feel terrible." Kurama dozed off…

'_Ding Dong!' _ This was what woke our poor fox up a couple of hours later.

"There is absolutely no way I'm getting up."

"Shuichi? Are you home?" That voice! It was Maya!

"I'm coming!" he called. He couldn't make Maya stand outside! Dragging himself to his feet, the redhead hurried for the front door. He did his best to ignore the odd way the room was spinning, and the irritating pounding in his skull. He lost his balance at the door, and fell against it. He stood very still for a moment, determined that it was safe to stand up again, and pulled the door open.

"Oh! Shuichi! You look _terrible_!" It hit Kurama right then what a mess he must be. Lets look at it from Maya's point of view for a sec.

/Maya's point of view/ When the door opened, I'm not sure what I was expecting to see, but it certainly _wasn't_ what I saw. Shuichi was using the door to stay upright, for one. I'm used to seeing him in his uniform, and here he is in a wrinkled white T-shirt and dark green pajama pants. His hair, which is always well cared for (even if it's a little weird. I mean, how many guys do you see with long hair?) was sticking all over the place, and some of it was stuck to his face. I know his skin is normally pale, with just a hint of tan, but if you add a fever-flush over his nose and cheek-bones, coupled with an overall ashen look…well…he looks like he's about to keel over any second. Oops, spoke too soon.

/Back to 3rd person POV/ Kurama wobbled for a moment, and then fell. Maya darted forward and caught him, staggering under his weight. Not to say that Kurama is really heavy, but Maya is delicately built. "Shuichi? Are you okay?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Can you stand up?"

"Not on my own." Maya managed to shift Kurama to a position that she could stand in, and helped him to his feet. Using Maya's shoulder for physical support, and her hand for emotional support, Kurama staggered back to the couch. Once he was sitting, Maya pulled Kurama's blanket up around him.

"Man, you must be feeling awful."

"That would be a _major_ understatement." Maya smiled a little at this, and put her hand on his forehead.

"Whoa! Does your mom know that you have such a high fever?"

"Yes. Well…she knows I have a fever. Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"We had a half-day Shuichi. Remember?"

"You didn't answer the other question."

"I asked the teacher where you were, and she said that you were home sick. I though I'd come by when we got out and see if you were feeling better. Are you?"

"Sort of."

"Explain."

"Well…I spent and hour and a half puking this morning. So…stomach wise, I'm feeling better. Everything else…that's another story." Kurama was rather pleasantly surprised when Maya hugged him gently.

"I'm sorry you're feeling so rotten. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I think I should go back upstairs. Can I lean on you?"

"Of course." Together, Maya and Kurama managed to successfully navigate the stairs. "Do you think you can eat something? You really should."

"I can try." Kurama said slowly. Maya smiled and headed back downstairs. As soon as she was gone, Kurama allowed himself a very happy smile. He had regretted having to wipe Maya's memory of the 8-hands incident, and had regretted removing all her feelings for him even more. _He _at least still liked her. She was a sweet girl after all.

Maya returned to his room about half an hour later, bearing a tray on which rested the following: a bowl of chicken soup, some saltines, and a glass of ginger ale. She put them on the stand next to his bed. "Here you go. I've got to go now, my mom is expecting me. I hope you feel better tomorrow." Maya hugged Kurama again, ruffled his hair, and left. Tentatively, he sampled the soup. Much to his relief, it was edible. He had reason to be cautious. Several girls had nearly poisoned him with their cooking. He managed to finish about half of what he'd been given before moving it to his desk so he could sleep again…

Late that afternoon, Kurama woke up with a jolt of sick surprise and leaped for his trashcan. '_Maybe eating wasn't a good idea_.' He thought as he hunched miserably over the trashcan.

Hiei was hopping from tree to tree several streets over when he sensed a very familiar demon aura. It was Kurama, the plant-wielding fox demon who had teamed up with him to destroy 8-hands. But there was something odd about that aura right now. It felt strangely hazy, but was spiked to abnormally high levels. Intrigued, he checked the rest of the house for humans before approaching. There was no one else there, only the residual auras of two females who had left some time ago. He found a tall oak tree outside one of the two windows that opened onto the fox's room, and hopped into its branches. What he saw there made him stop and stare. He wasn't an expert on humans, and he didn't want to be, but even _he_ knew that humans didn't usually have their faces hidden in trashcans. The redhead in question was shaking too, and some relatively odd, rather choked noises were coming from the trashcan as well. Then it hit him. Kurama must be stuck! The rim of the thing must be _choking_ him! Hiei decided not to think about _why_ the fox had had his head in a trashcan in the first place.

The window was open, and it was the work of a second to remove the screen and hop into the bedroom. He crossed the floor silently and placed a hesitant hand on Kurama's back.

"Go away." Said a voice from within the trashcan. "Can't you _at least_ have the decency to leave me alone when I'm sick?"

" Sick? So you're not stuck?"

"Stuck? Why would I be stuck?" Kurama raised his face from the trashcan, praying that whatever might still be left in his stomach would stay there.

"You had your head in a trashcan, and it sounded like you were choking. You weren't stuck?"

"Of course _not_. I'm just not fee-Oh no. 'scuse me." The redhead sprang to his feet and rocketed out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall. A very confused Hiei followed. Now the fox was hunched over the toilet. What _was_ it with him and doing that?

It was several minutes before Kurama stood and moved to the sink to rinse his mouth. "What do you want Hiei?" he asked tiredly, heading out the door and back to his room.

"I was passing through and felt your aura. It felt more than a little off, so I thought I'd come see what was going on."

"Well, now you know, so why are you still here?" Hiei was rather taken aback by this statement. His modest experience with Kurama was that the fox was polite, and very much so.

"Did you hit your head? You aren't acting normal."

"Hit my head? No, I didn't. It's just- Agh! Why me!"

"Why you _what_?"

"Why do _I_ have to be the one to explain humans to _you_?"

"Are you going to give a reason for the way you're acting then?" Hiei asked hopefully. This was one thing he'd like to know, _even_ if it involved humans. If he continued to work with Kurama, and he planned to, after seeing how dangerous the fox could be when he was angered, he ought to know how Kurama might react differently to things than a demon would.

"Yes Hiei, yes, I'm going to explain a _little_."

"I'm listening." Hiei said, sitting down on the windowsill and staring expectantly at Kurama. The redhead sat back down on the bed and rubbed his temples thoughtfully, trying to decide how he should put this for the short demon.

"Okay, listen. Humans get sick more often than demons d-"

"_I_ don't get sick." Hiei interrupted, earning himself an irritated glare from Kurama.

"A lot of demons do, usually when they're very young. Are you going to interrupt again?" The look he was giving Hiei clearly dared him to say yes, and promised pain if he did.

"No."

"Good. Humans in general, and me in particular, get irritable when we're sick. That's _all_. I _wasn't_ choking, I _haven't_ hit my head, and _all_ I want to do is _sleep_, so I'd appreciate it if-" A loud rumble of thunder sounded out side. Hiei turned to peek out the window, then leaped inside and slammed the window closed just before the rain started, coming down in sheets driven nearly vertical by strong winds.

"I'm not going out in that."

Kurama sighed. Clearly, he was paying for something, even though he had no clue exactly _what_ it was he had done. Whatever it was, he regretted it now. That, or somebody up there had a serious grudge against him.

"Fine. Fine, that's just _great._ You can stay here, but don't get into any trouble, and don't bother me unless it's really important. Do you understand?"

"I understand. I'm not a child." Hiei snapped. He left the room.

"Thank goodness for that." Kurama mumbled. He yanked his blankets up higher, and reached for something. It wasn't there. A little worried now, Kurama tossed the blankets back and methodically searched them, rapidly growing frantic as he came up with nothing.

"Looking for _this_?" Hiei was standing in the door again, a stuffed lion in one hand. Embarrassed beyond belief, Kurama nodded, and held his hands out for the toy. Hiei came in and handed it over.

"Where _was_ he?" Kurama asked, hugging the lion tightly, and checking to make sure that he wasn't damaged.

"Half under the couch, and buried under an afghan. _Why_ do you still keep such childish things?"

"Ever heard of a security blanket?" Kurama snapped, angry at the insulting comment directed at his precious Simba.

"No."

"Didn't you have something like this to sleep with when you were little?"

"Yes. A dragon. But I haven't had it for years."

"Then you _should_ understand. Besides, this guy and I have been through a lot together, and he protects something very important to me. I'll stick to my 'childish things', thank you, and I'll be very happy doing so." He rolled over and tucked Simba tightly against his chest, over his heart, and fell asleep.

Hiei stood there for a long time, thinking about what had occurred in the fifteen minutes he'd been here. He watched Kurama cuddling his lion, and wondered what it was that the toy protected. After a while, the rain stopped, and Hiei bounded out the window and away, deciding not to tell the slumbering fox that he still had one of his dragon's wings hidden in a pocket inside his cloak.

/End Story/

"Wow. I had no idea you actually inherited that lion from someone." Erin commented.

"What? Did you really think that I could get him that beat up in my lifetime?" Jake said, looking hurt.

"Knowing you, quite possibly. That didn't really seem complete. Is there more to that story?"

"Sort of. _That_ story is finished, but there are more, and they explain a lot more. It's Hiei's turn to be the one getting snuck up on, and my grandfather's turn to find something he probably shouldn't have. But I don't think you really want to hear it."

"Yes we do!" Everyone shouted. Jake grinned.

"Okay then. Here's the page." Jake tapped the dot on the next page, and they were off again.


End file.
